


Nothing

by Vee



Category: One Piece
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-07-22
Updated: 2004-07-22
Packaged: 2017-11-21 14:22:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/598761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vee/pseuds/Vee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Absolutely nothing had happened behind closed doors, just like nothing ever happened any other time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing

This wasn’t one of their normal fights. This wasn’t the playful insults and harmless yells; everyone seemed to know it. As if silently cued, the galley cleared swiftly, leaving the two to themselves amidst a storm of finger pointing, thrown objects, and throat-scraping screams. 

Zoro didn’t usually fight back, not unless the topic of argument was important enough to defend. But Nami knew, and Usopp knew, and Luffy knew that even the world’s greatest swordsman could only hold back so much before it exploded from the inside out. And then, it all came tumbling down. Weeks and months of unkind words suppressed between kisses and quiet serenity. There was only so much time that begrudging respect would remain between lovers. It was so much easier, after all, to turn away from a crewmate or a friend. 

But when Zoro tried to turn away this time, a bottle of viegar went flying past his head, purposefully missing him by inches to explode against the wall. 

“Don’t walk away – don’t you EVER walk away on me when I’m talking to you!” Sanji’s voice was raised, but they were all used to that. Everyone could hear him, through the walls, out on the deck. Muffled anger, deep tones, just sharp enough to be significant. 

“No!” Zoro’s voice was never raised, though. He never barked more than four or five words at a time, never sustained his snarling scream longer than a few moments. He had a sandpaper throat, making every word more purposeful and weighty the louder he said it, “not this time! This time you’re not going to win just because you’re more persistent! Just because you scream louder and bitch longer doesn’t mean you’re right!” 

Several minutes ago, they’d forgotten what they were arguing about in the first place. 

“You never listen, anyway! You’re thick-headed and overbearing and it’s time someone told you so! You think I’m afraid of you? _You think I’m afraid of you?!”_ They were both terrifying at their angriest, when winning wasn’t the greatest issue, when neither really wanted it to end until every piece was spoken and every bone of contention was picked. 

“Shut the fuck up.” Zoro pointed firmly at him. 

“No! I wo—“ 

“ _Shut the fuck up!_ God, just listen to yourself once in a while – you can’t leave well enough alone, can you? I’m not your fucking wife, I have no obligation to change and conform to your specifications! And your specifications change every day, anyway! Every day, something new is pissing you off, and I’m sick of trying to read your mind – I’m _through_. Just go find some goddamn bimbo and make yourself happy – I’m not gonna deal with it!” 

“You said you’d try. You told me you’d fucking try!” Sanji’s fists were clenched, veins were throbbing just under the skin. His head pounded, like he had to scream louder just to relieve the pressure. “Is this what you call trying?! Does the world’s greatest just give up –“ 

“Shut your fucking mouth,” Zoro lunged forward with a few steps, finger still pointing a warning to Sanji, “you have NO right to bring that up –“

“I have EVERY right! Because I could be better than you – ANYONE could be better than you!” 

Zoro sneered sourly, unaffected by the idiocy of Sanji’s allegation. “I don’t think so.” 

“You don’t have to think so, you know so! Without those swords you’re helpless—“

“That’s not true—“

“And it’s all the same with everything else, isn’t it? You’ve got to be ‘The Man’ and assert yourself and be alpha, but what have you done besides run from your life? From your problems? What have you done to heal yourself? You just bury yourself in your delusions, when underneath all that, I know you’re just a scared kid. Just a scared little boy who can’t ever ask anyone for help! No, that would be below you – you’re too good for that, aren’t you? You’re too good to humble yourself. Showing weakness isn’t an option.” 

“You’re just saying that because you’re weak!” 

“ _I’m stronger than you!_ ” Sanji bristled, every muscle shaking with anger, “Nami, and Usopp, and Luffy, and _all_ of us, we’re stronger than you! We’ve been through more than you could imagine! So what happened to you? Your girlfriend died – GET OVER IT.” 

The moment Sanji said those words, he knew they had been too terrible. Zoro turned around and pushed at him roughly. Sanji stumbled back at the force of the blow and knocked the cutting board off the counter. The mugs rattled on their hanging hooks. Zoro’s hands came down on the edge of the counter, pinning him in position, trapped between his arms. 

“You don’t know me,” Zoro growled dangerously, his voice low and husky, “you don’t know anything about me.” 

“It’s because you won’t let me. You won’t let anyone! I don’t care if you want to be alone for the rest of your life – I don’t give a DAMN! Just admit it. At least admit it,” he panted, catching his breath. He realized he was sweating, “don’t lead people on thinking that maybe someday you’ll tell your secrets.” 

“My secrets are _gone_ , my secrets are over.” 

“But they’ve made you how you are today – they’ve made you hurt everyone -- _everyone_!” 

Zoro slapped his face, squarely, clenching his teeth and obviously wanting to do more to hurt him. “God, I hate you. I hate you so much.” He breathed, his tone more purposeful and veracious than it usually was when he said it. 

Sanji stood persistent, scowling as his face tingled. With a quick puff, he snorted hot air through his nose like a baited bull. Then, rearing his head back only slightly, he spat at Zoro. 

“Fucker.” He whispered, heartfelt and breaking with emotion. Zoro didn’t even make a move to wipe his face off. They just stared, boiling, waiting for a few moments. A contest. Yet another contest of wills. 

Then Zoro leaned in, slowly as if it were romantic, and kissed him. Sanji’s first instincts kicked in, and he thrashed a bit against him, pulling his lips away and pushing his hands this way and that, fighting him, flaling, trying to duck beneath his arm. But somehow Zoro kept finding his mouth, roughly as his body stayed rock solid and immovable. He never relented against Sanji’s objections, even when pale fists beat bruises into the muscles on his chest. 

“No. No, goddamnit, no,” Sanji snapped between sloppy, haphazard kisses and his efforts to hide from them, “damnit, NO!” 

“What, are you saying you don’t want this?” Zoro snarled right back, trapping Sanji only tighter against the counter, pinching the small of his back and bending him backwards as the squirming, resisting body only made him angrier. 

“I’m saying I’m not your whore! I’m not here for you whenever you want me! So you fucked me – it doesn’t mean anything! _It doesn’t mean anything!”_

“Then why are you crying?” He licked at the tears on Sanji’s face, smirking cruelly. There was so much anger taking over in both of them. Convictions and behavior were starting to warp and mutate, making them carnal and different. They were in their animal state now - there wasn’t a _Going Merry_ , there weren’t any Straw Hat Pirates, and they didn’t really know each other at all. They were just beasts. 

“I’m not crying.” But the tears only welled up faster when Zoro pointed them out. Sanji’s hands gripped the white fabric on Zoro’s shoulders, and pulled so hard it cut deeply into the tanned skin before ripping with a satisfying noise. Sanji growled – that hadn’t been what he’d meant to do at all. He tried to throw his hips up, buck against Zoro’s body, but all he found was hardness, holding him down fast, thighs and abdomen and the solid curve of a waiting erection. 

“You’re disgusting.” He whispered, barely audible, and cast his eyes down. He ground his teeth furiously, not wanting to give in. He didn’t want to give in…

Tomorrow all things would be business as usual. They’d wake up, they’d change watch in the middle of the night. Sanji would make breakfast and Zoro would work out on the deck. Nothing would be said of this, nothing at all. This was the animal place, this didn’t exist. This wasn’t a relationship, this wasn’t a real thing to be bothered with. There didn’t have to be drama. There never should have been drama. It was just Sanji giving in, letting Zoro tear into him, throwing him awkwardly on top of the counter, uncomfortably catching his back on the cabinet knobs. It was just Zoro, not holding it in any longer, ripping fabric and breaking buttons, devouring Sanji like a wild dog before they simply did what had to be done. 

There’d be nothing if they didn’t do this. Just every once in a while, just long enough to satisfy and long enough to make their muscles sore enough to remember. It was dirty and painful, sweating and half-clothed, nothing romantic about it at all. It was nothing they’d talk about, nothing they’d ever admit that they pondered, night after night, wondering if maybe there could be something more. But Sanji had women, and Zoro had steel, and that’s how they liked it. Hating each other; that’s how they liked it. Scratching and biting and cursing each other’s names if they ever said a word - _that_ was how they liked it. 

There were little details they both remembered, things that really weren’t pertinent but never failed to find them at the most inopportune moments. Sanji kicked his legs when he came, straightened them out and let his muscles convulse, as his thighs quivered around Zoro’s hips, squeezing him like scissors. And then Zoro would wipe his hand off, like he was disgusted by it, smearing it on Sanji’s chest and on his shirt, massaging it into his nipples as he fucked him with a stony, expressionless face. No longer angry. Almost sated. But no longer angry. 

Zoro never looked at him after that. Zoro liked to come with his eyes closed. Sanji didn’t want to wonder why; he didn’t need to wonder why. They were just being animals, these were simply nature’s urges playing out. He’d wonder why Zoro closed his eyes, why he panted hard and his face softened, but still he never looked at Sanji. Was he imagining that it wasn’t happening? Was he thinking about his dead girlfriend?

Sanji gnashed his teeth, the anger surging again, and threw himself in to meet every one of Zoro’s final thrusts with challenging resilience. 

Zoro felt it, felt Sanji’s rebellion kicking in, and reached up. Their hands were weak, ready to walk off and never speak of it, and they barely fought each other. Zoro, still not looking, quested out Sanji’s face, and pushed against it, pushed back his chin and held him firmly for no particular reason. Sanji fought against it, struggling with his fingers around Zoro’s arm when he felt the swordsman’s orgasm fill him with a sickeningly intimate rush. 

And, just as unexpectedly as it had started, it was over. There were no words, no justifications, no apologies or questions asked. They just went back to their real world, separated and knew they’d come together in that dark place again. They were together in the real world, too, of course, but the real world was full of meaningless arguments and pointless banter, adventure and friendship that somehow never invited a mention, however fleeting, of the animal place they shared. 

There was Nami, asking for a pineapple milkshake on the deck. There were three swords, lovingly propped up and waiting near the stern. They went back to the real world, to their real loves, and never resolved why they’d been screaming and spitting and pointing fingers at each other. 

Because absolutely nothing had happened behind closed doors, just like nothing ever happened any other time. 

Absolutely nothing.


End file.
